The Crazy Making Ex: Nightstands, Viagra and Sacred Moments

At the core of the passive aggressive man is the endless attempts to destroy his wife’s spirit. I know this sounds harsh and if you’ve lived it, it is harsh. It is also true.

And if you are a woman who has a deep appreciation for sex, especially sex with the man she loves, what better way to break her spirit than to deny her the pleasure of an intimate relationship with you? And when it came to sex, my ex was talented at withholding.

Our daily routine was average. We woke early, zipped the husband into his flight suit, pulled the boys out of bed, wrapped them in clothing, filled their tummies with a warm breakfast and waved them off on the school bus with smiles on our faces.

Off to work the ex would go, while I stayed home cleaning, cooking, dusting and vacuuming. We had it all, a great income, a nice home, two cars; two kids who would make any parent proud and no sex.

My ex was everything; he was generous, helpful, grateful, respectful, tender, attentive AND asexual. As he explained to me after the marriage, “I’ve just never seen what the big deal is about sex.” Something he failed to share with me before marriage.

Back to daily life…I had a routine, one that comforted me and helped me wind down before the kids and ex came home in the afternoons. I would retreat to our bed, light a few candles on my nightstand and read for an hour. It was my respite after a long day of what I used to call, “earning my keep.” He paid the bills; I earned my keep by keeping the house ship-shape.

The problem with the disparity in our libidos had been discussed on a few occasions during the marriage. There would be long, loving talks, promises of change, a few weeks of doing something different and then back to sex 4 times a year.

Finally during our 11th year of marriage I put my foot down. Told him to see a doctor, what kind of Doctor I didn’t care just see someone who can help figure out the problem. He chose to see a Urologist who found he was bankrupt in the testosterone department.

Well then! We had an answer and where there is such a physical ailment there is a medical solution. The good doctor started him on testosterone injections and life at our house changed. He was randy as hell, I was happy as hell. For 3 weeks he had one injection a week. For 3 weeks he was all about getting some and I was enjoy the hell out of all the attention his need for “some” was getting me. I did so love sex with that man!

Then he decided he would no longer take the injections. He said he had done research and learned that testosterone injections can cause cancer. I remember thinking of the decades in which women had been taking birth control pills and hormones for their sake and the sake of their lovers…all products that can cause cancer. I wondered how men would react if women stopped taking birth control pills out of fear of getting cancer. What vile labels would be assigned to women for their refusal to take a pill than protects men from unwanted pregnancies? I can only imagine!

My 3 weeks of fun between the sheets, in the kitchen, study; car or anywhere else we could manage to get some was over. We were back to the status quos but with a twist this time. This time he had to slap me around a bit, not literally but covertly. He had to stick it to me, once again not literally but covertly. I was to be punished for once again drawing attention to a problem that was his and needed to be dealt with. Oh and for exposing him to a medication that might, God forbid, cause him to get cancer.

And he chose to do it during that time of the day when I was quiet and relaxed. He intruded into my retreat and put me in my place in a big way. He came in from work early, I heard him coming up the stairs. I looked up to see him standing next to the bed in his flight suit. He was a magnificent man, the love of my life, my heart. I no longer long for him but I do still remember the longing I used to have for him. And I’ll never forget the mind numbing pain of what he did, right there during my afternoon retreat.

He pulled a bottle of pills out of his pocket, opened the top drawer to the nightstand where my sweetly scented candles sat filling the room with aroma and said to me, “this is a bottle of Viagra, from now on when you want sex all you have to do is ask for sex.” He then dropped the bottle in the drawer and closed it with his foot.

I sat there in my sacred space and felt a few more memories of my sanity slipping away. I learned that afternoon that to him, nothing is sacred…sadly and tragically least of all me.

And still I held onto hope or maybe by then I was too far gone to ever find my way out.

Comments

One of the most shredding aspects are the windows when you’re intimate, when everything is tender and right. He would glow in it as well, talk about how he couldn’t wait to experience it again, and then he’d sabotage himself as well as the relationship. Whatever it is that makes intimacy so threatening is enough to drive them to deny their own healthy enjoyments and healthy needs.

There are so many times that it’s impossible to be sure of what’s happening. After all, anyone and everyone can get tired, want alone time, not feel well etc. When there’s a long term pattern, when no sex is the norm for the relationship, then it’s purposeful on some level.

And then… there are those other revealing moments when for that glimmer of a moment you catch a resentful look that wasn’t meant to be seen, or hear ugly honest words that slipped out in anger, and then… you know. You don’t understand, but for just a minute you know you aren’t crazy after all. The inside of your guts can feel like they’re reeling in shock, your brain can spin trying to figure out how to ‘fix’ it (aka become more desirable, do anything to smooth the path and remove any blocks for intimacy), and your heart feels literally bruised. It’s a rejection that goes to the core of your being.

Whether a person in a relationship is aware that their differences (albeit in food, music, personality, priorities, goals, or libido) could or are hurting their partner and make that connection, they do see the resulting hurt. They see the result, the impact, the erosion, the fear, the grief, and the pain. They see it, and that for me is the objectivity. Do they care about their purported beloved hurting, not concerned whether it’s real or perceived, but only focus on alleviating the distress of the one they love? Or is the focus on establishing why they’re innocent of any wrong doing or wrong intentions, and why it’s invalid/unreasonable/wrong/offensive/ridiculous for you to feel lonely and unloved.

It’s a very lonely place when you’re usually surrounded by women who talk about their partners as constant consistent pursuers of physical intimacy.

Cathy, a very well written article! I can completely understand the hurt you experienced. My passive aggressive ex used sex in a different way but with similar effect. Telling me something was wrong with me because I didn’t want sex as much as him. I learned a lot about myself with a couple of good lovers after I left the marriage. I learned I do like sex, it was sex with emotional pressure I didn’t like. Thanks for sharing!

What a highly specious soap opera! While I am sure there are men who suffer from low T, that should have been apparent very early on in your relationship; However, the converse is much more common and never addressed by women, that is the legions of men who are good providers, attentive husbands and find themselves relegated to the bottom of the list when it comes to intimacy with their wife. Women are known, from time in memoriam, to become uninterested in intimacy with their husbands. This story plays to an essential feeling that many women believe it is their husband’s fault for them not feeling good about themselves and seeking solace in another story about a man who just doesn’t satisfy them in some way anymore. We never hear the voices of those women whose husbands complain they don’t have enough sex and tell us why they refuse and their husbands off. I am sure it will be the same story as the in previous millenniums.

Specious? I don’t think so Harry. If I wrote an article about how all men suffer from low testosterone levels then maybe you could find it “specious.” And, as far as it being low testosterone and evident to me from the beginning, I don’t think so. I’m not a doctor and due to that didn’t and don’t have the ability to diagnose medical conditions.

You are wrong about women NEVER addressing the issue of low libido. Women have been taking hormone replacements for decades to try and negate the symptoms of low libido. I have to studies to back up this belief by I will go out on a limb and say that there are just as many women using bio-identical testosterone cremes for low libido than there are men…maybe even more sense it has been women who have been shoving pills down out throat for the sake of our relationships for decades.

A woman not only needs to feel good about herself to desire sex, she needs to feel good about her partner also. It isn’t unusual, if there are no medical complications for both spouses to be responsible for the lack of sex in a relationship.

When men like you stop blaming women and take on some responsibility you may start getting some. Until then, hang onto that victim mentality, blame your lack of sex on some woman and see how far that gets you.

The story is changing Harry, in future millenniums you will see fewer and fewer willing to have sex with a man she doesn’t feel good about and without having to make excuses for not wanting to do so.

I had a passive aggressive husband who wanted sex a lot and thought he wasn’t getting enough…1 x a week. This is after 18 years of marriage, 3 children and being peri-menapausal. The thing was I felt he didn’t like me. The core of who I was was not valued. He would do things to me before bedtime that pissed me off that I explained to him made me angry and he would say, oh I’m just having fun…loosen up…it’s just a habit. Then when he wanted sex later I would have to overcome this mountain of anger at him for disregarding my feelings and how I wanted to be treated to try then to get interested in him. Sex was an organism for him and me being left frustrated; as I would get slightly interested he would come and I would be left with an exhausted weight on top of me and snoring within minutes. I never had an orgasm with him and he was never interested enough to look into what his part in it could be (poss. delaying his gratification and more foreplay for me). He was more interested in focusing on him getting a blow job if I wasn’t interested in sex, another thing he knew was a turn off to me….if I loved him wouldn’t I want it? His needs were more important, he would say… I didn’t want it anyway…so just give me what I need. Years and years of getting slightly interested and leaving me high and dry makes for one frustrated gal. The more I learn about passive aggressive behavior I think he was holding back helping me as a punishment as I didn’t deserve the intention, my needs weren’t important and I didn’t appreciate him enough.

I’ve been married four years, and am having to come to the realization that this is what has been happening to me since our honeymoon. The withholding of sex, the refusing the testosterone shots after two months, the blaming me for the anxiety that my “younger libido” caused him, blaming it on my not wanting to be sexually active before marriage creating guilt for him, telling me he’ll “take care of [me]” (get me off) as though doing me a favor (making me feel like a chore, and not an individual to be treasured by cultivating true friendship and intimacy — the list goes on and on with sex alone, not to mention the lack of any interest in me as a woman, for my comfort, my safety (also with a junker car to his brand new one), his need to feel like a victim, refusing to be fiscally responsible, denying me children by not getting his vasectomy reversed (as previously decided by us both to happen three years ago), getting me worked up and defensive for hours and then pressing the RECORD button on his phone while I’m completely losing my cool as I have tried and failed to reason with someone who is unreasonable.

I am separated now. Trying to come to grips with the fact that my husband, by all accounts and appearances, does not care one wit about me. He is charming, outgoing, and funny (when he wants to be). He can also sulk, throw tantrums, and make everything (even his son’s birthday) about him and his own personal failures. Learning not to need his approval as I did with my mother, who has Narcissistic Personality Disorder. I have never been so jittery, full of self-doubt, and filled with feelings of undesirability as I have for the last five and a half years (even my abusive mother would tell me I was beautiful). I am standing at the edge of a great chasm of DIVORCE, just waiting for the assurance that my bungee cord is tightly fastened and the distance of the fall is properly calculated. This is frightening stuff. But staying married this way is not an option. I’m grateful, in many ways, that I do not have children with him, but will not waste one more year of my life on this existence. I say that intentionally. It is just an existence. It is not living.

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